Beauden hit the lights and nosed the Caddy out to the traffic lane. He waited a second and then buried the pedal, swinging them out into a narrow gap and getting a long horn blast for his effort.

‘Jesus Christ. Shall I drive?’

‘Fuck off. You want to follow him or not?’

The Navigator was still waiting for an opening, and as they approached Trenton, Beauden eased off the pedal to open up some space. The SUV went for it—wheels squealing on the turn—and pulled out just ahead of them.

Beauden said, ‘Yeah, that’s how it’s done. That is beautiful.’

They caught a green light at Santa Monica, and the Navigator blew through the intersection, stayed east on Wilshire.

Beauden ran a hand through his hair. ‘Look, I don’t know how serious you want to be with this, but like I said, I have gear if you need it. A Remington and a couple other things …’

That put something through him—a little current that came and went with a chill.

Beauden said, ‘But just—’

‘Yeah, I know: be real careful.’ He took a breath and said, ‘Let’s just see what happens.’

Beauden was quiet for a couple of blocks. Then he said, ‘You tried convincing her yet that war’s a scourge? Or whatever it is you’re always on about? That’d be a good project for you, wouldn’t it? Slowly dismantle the thesis of her book while you drive her around.’

Vincent said, ‘What do you mean, whatever it is I’m always on about?’

Beauden glanced at him.

Vincent said, ‘You make it sound like I’m … I don’t know. Promulgating conspiracies or something.’

‘Promulgating.’

‘Yeah. There’s another good word for you.’

Beauden smiled.

Vincent said, ‘I don’t believe in conspiracies. I tend to believe what gets written in official reports.’

‘Yeah, yeah. Everyone knows about the torture.’

Vincent said, ‘It’s not so much the torture, it’s the fact that most of the time we tortured the wrong people. Worth reading about, too—take some gloss off your high horse. Stay on his fender. We don’t want someone changing lanes on us.’

‘I don’t have a high horse.’

Vincent said, ‘All right. The belief then, that whatever we do we’re always doing the world a big fat fucking favour.’

Beauden shook his head. ‘Christ, I shouldn’t have got you started.’

Quiet again. They watched the Navigator’s taillights all the way to North Flores, and then Beauden said, ‘Not sure if I told you … I started seeing someone. I don’t know if you call them a counsellor or a therapist. Anyway, you go along and they make you talk about shit.’

Vincent said, ‘Oh, right. You didn’t mention that.’